Dying Flame
by dandilyon
Summary: My version of Catching Fire, following Katniss before, during, and after the Quell if she really was pregnant. This is not a sappy love story, there will be a lot of problems for Peeta and Katniss. Katniss/Peeta
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I have to say it. I'm sorry. I'm experiencing a really bad case of writer's block for both Spark and the rewritten version, I really don't know whether or not I should continue. Sorry guys. :( **

**On a happier note, I have had some other good ideas swirling around in my chaotic noggin that I've been meaning to type up, but I have had no time. But my school just started up this new schedule where I only have to come to school Monday through Thursday, so I will have every Friday off. Which makes Fridays my new update days, so you people should at least be able to count on that and expect that from me.**

**Alright. Also, this story right here has been eating me alive lately and I REALLY wanted to write this one, so here it goes...**

**DISCLAIMER-**

**Obviously I do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the characters in this little excuse of a story. All those rights go to Suzanne Collins, of course. :)**

* * *

The first thing I feel is surprise. So much, however, that I nearly faint. This can't be happening, no. There is simply no way. Absolutely not.

My second emotion is anger, not towards anyone but me. How could I be so stupid? How could Peeta let my hormones and my emotion drive me to that point? What have I done? A sudden burst of fear surges through me, overpowering any previous emotion I had been feeling. How am I going to tell Prim? Or Haymitch? Effie? Peeta? _Gale? _

There is no doubt in my mind that Gale will hate me when word gets out. No doubt.

_What have I done?_

I don't realize I've been crying until there's a quiet knock on the bathroom door. When I don't answer, Peeta walks in anyways. "Katniss? Are you okay? Your mother said you needed to talk to me, it's important. Are you hurt? Sick?"

_No. Just pregnant._ I think, which only makes me cry harder. Peeta sits on the bathroom floor with me and just holds me in his lap until I've cried myself out. How do I tell him?

Prim comes in a moment later, she must have just gotten home from school. A look of surprise and worry crosses her face. "Katniss? What's wrong?"

I sniffle in reply and shake my head. I can't be pregnant. No. _I'm only seventeen!_

Before she questions me further, my mother calls her downstairs, and I hear her say Peeta and I need to talk in private.

"Katniss, please. What's wrong?" He pulls me off his chest, forces me to face him, to look him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta. So sorry." I mumble, my eyes welling up again. My tongue refuses to say it aloud. _I'm- I'm pregnant. _

"Sorry?" Peeta says, staring at my with so much worry and pain it looks as if he's the broken one. Well, he's about to be.

"Peeta." Deep breath. "Remember the night Gale was whipped? When you took me up to go to sleep...?" I say, but I know what his answer will be. Of course he remembers that night when my - our emotions were running so high.

He stays silent for a long time so I just continue. "I'm...I am...pregnant." I choke out, tasting the words I never thought I would have to say, let alone when I'm only _seventeen_.

His eyes grow wide, his face goes white. He pulls his arm away from me and runs his hand through his hair, yanking the golden curls away from his face and letting out a long, shaky breath.

"Oh my..." he whispers, closing his eyes. "You're..I mean you're..."

"Yes." I say, trying very hard not to cry. "I am. I'm sure."

"You mean we're going to be parents? It is mine, right?" He says, pulling his hand away from his hair. I half smile at this comment.

"Yes, it's yours. I've never been with... well you were my first. And only." I whisper and look down at my stomach, where in just a few months there will be a squirming thing living inside.

"God, Katniss. We're only seventeen... I can't believe it." His eyes well up. "God, I'm so sorry."

Suddenly we're crying together, holding eachother so tight I'm certain we are suffocating whatever is in me right now.

"I can't be a mother!" I blurt out. "I can't!"

"We made it. That's our baby, and we have to be there for it." I bite my lip and look away. _No._

He sighs, stands up and holds out his hand to help me up too. "Let's go for a walk." He says, and pulls me out of the bathroom and down the stairs. My mother and Prim are talking in the kitchen, and barely look up before Peeta leads me out the front door.

There's a half-melted layer of snow on the ground, a grey sickly looking mush. I slosh through it as Peeta drags me down past Victor's Village to the Square.

"Let's go to the bakery, okay?"

"No, I don't want your mother to-"

"They aren't there. Graham has a wrestling competition today."

"Then why didn't you go?"

"I did, but I left when your mother called. You are more important, Katniss."

I don't reply.

He fishes some keys out of his pocket and wiggles them around in the lock. It clicks, and the door creaks open slowly as if the bakery is hundreds of years old.

I haven't been inside here in a long time, his witch of a mother always comes up with an excuse to shoo me away. I flip on a light switch and stare at all of the pastries and cakes and breads littering the countertops and shelves. Mounds of white flour replace the coal dust everywhere else in District 12, worn into the floorboards and coating the counters. Peeta flicks on another light, above a wooden staircase and I follow him up to the attic.

Dusty paintings are thrown around like garbage, and when Peeta sees this he sighs. "So that's where these went." He mutters as he picks up and brushes off a beautiful painting of a flower. Not just any flower, an evening primrose.

"These are beautiful, Peeta." They really are, his paintings. Dozens and dozens of flowers and places I've seen around 12, like the shoe store and the sweets shop. He's painted them almost identical to what a photo would look like.

"Thanks. Listen, we need to talk." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I love you, you know that. I'm not sure where you stand right now, but I think we can consider ourselves good friends. I know that night you were upset, and I hope you can forgive me for what I did. That was a mistake, Katniss. I shouldn't have let myself go that far."

"I don't regret it." I don't. As much as I hate to admit it, it's very difficult trying to forget it. "I'm not sure how I feel towards you... I do - love you... it's just that I don't know how much or on what level. I'm sorry, so sorry. And I don't blame you for hating me and not wanting any part of this.."

"No. There is no way I could ever hate you, never Katniss. And I am just as responsible for that baby- our baby - as you are. I got you pregnant, so we are doing this together. Okay? No matter what. We can work it out, someway."

Carefully, I brush my fingers against my stomach. I am going to be a mother.

A while later, Peeta grabs some of his paintings and snack on some bread as we leave before his family returns. I can't go back to my house, Peeta knows that. I can't confront my sister right now, and although my mother was the first to know, I don't want to talk about it with her right now.

I help Peeta carry the paintings to his basement, covering them with a sheet so they don't get any dustier. As we go back upstairs, I realize I don't have anything to wear to bed.

"You can have one of my shirts, it's okay." Peeta reassures me. I change and he tucks me into bed, promising he'll be there soon, he just needs to take a shower.

I know this is code for he needs time to think by himself about our current situation.

I doze off anyways, cocooned in Peeta's blankets in his bed. And if I dream, I don't remember.

Little rays of sunlight dance around on Peeta, weaving through his hair and dotting his flesh. I stare at him, mesmerized, for who knows how long. He is shining, as if he is the sun himself. He's beautiful.

Eventually, his eyes flutter open and he smiles at me, briefly, before remembering that I'm pregnant at seventeen and we are going to be parents.

"Enjoying the view?" He asks, brushing some hair off of my forehead. I blush, because I was. "I did a lot of thinking last night Katniss. About you, about the baby. I understand if you don't want me to be around. If you want, you can say it's Gale's baby and you could just let me visit..." He looks away, obviously not liking this proposal.

"No. I don't want this to be Gale's baby. Besides, what happens if it comes out with blonde hair and blue eyes?"

"Well, you could just say it came from your mother."

"No, Peeta. I don't want any other father for this baby. You are the father."

"I just don't know how to make this work. I guess you could have it for one week, then I could take it for a week, and just switch like that. We are both wealthy enough to support a baby on our own anyways." I think this over for a moment, but I can't imagine not seeing it - my baby- for a week at a time. Or vice versa, for Peeta. Whatever I had felt yesterday, not wanting to have this, it's gone. This is my baby and I already love it.

I start crying again.

"Oh, no Katniss. Please don't cry, please. We have nine months to work it out, we can make this work."

"Sorry, it's just my stupid hormones." I sniffle out, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. "Thanks for letting me stay here, lastnight."

"Katniss, you really don't have to thank me. It's what we do."

I feel like there is something else that I should tell him, but I can't remember it know.

He shifts to sit up, and helps me up so I can lean against his chest. I pull away, despite how comfortable and loving it is, I feel like I've been using him and I can't do this. So I come up with some excuse like I need to talk to Prim and dart to the dresser to grab my clothes from yesterday.

I change as quickly as I can in the bathroom and run through Peeta's room, but I quickly turn around to see him standing up, already dressed. "I'm coming with you."

"Peeta.." I start, ready to begin an argument.

"No. That's my baby too, and the least I can do is walk you home."

"I feel like I'm using you!" I blurt out, then cover my mouth with my hand. What did I just say?

"Using me? How are you using me?" I don't answer, I just look away. "Katniss?"

"Because I keep coming here and sleeping in your bed, and hugging you and sometimes I even kiss you. But I don't even know if I love you!"

"How do you not know?" He asks quietly.

"Maybe I don't want to love anyone. I never wanted a boyfriend or to get married or have kids."

"You've already broken one promise, Katniss." I think about this, how the main reason why I didn't want to be with anyone was because it lead to kids. So before I start crying again, I run.

Past Peeta, down the stairs, through the living room, out the door. Running as fast as I can. To where? I don't know.

I stop when I reach the Seam. I slow my run to a jog and dart through the close together jumbles of broken down homes. Soon enough, I find my old house. Still there, still as if I walked in right now, Prim would be tending to our shattered mother. Or before that, my father would stoop down and kiss her right by the fireplace, even though me and Prim would scream and pretend to vomit at the sight.

_"Mama! That's gross!" Prim shrieks, she's only four years hide our eyes, making our parents laugh and kiss again, slower this time. But immediately after, my father scoops us both up, one in each arm, and kisses the tops of our heads. "There! A kiss for all of my girls!"_

_Prim giggles in delight and hugs our father close. My mother comes to join us as my father sets us down. "It's time for supper, girls!" She says happily. Grabbing Prim's sticky toddler hand, I lead her to the kitchen behind our parents, who are also holding hands._

I realize I've been crying, yet again. Almost as quickly as I came, I leave, running to the where the weak spot was in the fence. I step back, slowly. I almost touched it.

Have I not learned?

I stand there, far too long, just staring at the electrified barrier between me and my freedom. Then I start running again.

This time, to go back to my mansion of a house. Back to Prim and my mother.

I wonder if my mother already told Prim about the baby. I don't mind if she did, but I wanted to see her reaction. Would she be happy? Disappointed?

As soon as I walk through the front door, I am crowded with people. "Where have you been? You've been gone half the day!" One voice exclaims, but I can't pinpoint who's it is.

I walk through the people, and find Peeta on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up at me, eyes swollen from crying. He scans me carefully, checking over my body to make certain I don't have a single scratch or bruise on my skin. When he sees that I am uninjured, he stands up and envelopes me in his arms.

It takes me only a moment to hug him back. "God, Katniss. Don't do this to us." He says quietly. "We thought you ran today, off in the woods."

"I wouldn't. I couldn't anyways, the fence is electrified. I can't leave Prim or my mother or you now."

He pulls me away from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset this morning."

I shake my head, squeeze his hand and turn to the group of people who have been watching us. I suddenly feel very defensive, like they're invading my privacy, but Peeta and I did nothing more now than we've done on live television.

"Something you want to tell us, sweetheart?" Haymitch says, breaking the silence and taking a swig from his bottle.

I look at my mother, then at Peeta. They both nod.

"I'm pregnant." I say quietly, almost whisper. But I know everyone has heard me.

"Well, this changes things. Looks like you won't be training much anymore." Haymitch says.

Oh. I had forgotten about that. By the look plastered on his face, I think Peeta has too. With the reaping just about two weeks away, I'm going back into the arena.

Pregnant.

How could I have forgotten that? How I could the Quell completely slip my mind? Haymitch is right. This changes things.

For this baby's sake, I have to come out of the arena, alive. Peeta puts his hand on my shoulder, pale beyond belief. "Maybe if we tell the Capitol you're pregnant, they won't make you go in." He says quietly. We all know that isn't going to happen.

My head is swimming, swirling, twisting. What am I going to do?

"There is no way I'm not going in now, Katniss. I have to protect both of you."

"Peeta."

"No, this isn't up for argument. You are my fiance, and you are carrying my child therefore I have the right to save you."

"Please, please. No. This can't be happening." I mumble, falling to the floor. I'm just so confused, so overwhelmed. Peeta catches me on the way down, scooping me up and taking me to the sofa. As my vision fades, I hear my mother and Prim rushing to the kitchen to get medicine of some sort. Peeta holds both my hands tightly, and his lips against my forehead is the last thing I feel before I faint.

What have I done?

* * *

**Was it okay? Not too dramatic and cheesy? I hope not. **

**Again, I'm really sorry about my other stories. I feel incredibly bad about it. **

**Happy reading! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I skipped ahead a little to when Peeta and Katniss have just arrived in the Capitol. Since you guys have all (most of you at least) read Catching Fire, you know what the plot is. This story is only modified in some parts. Once the Games start up though, I will cover the entire Quell and afterwards. If this story is successful, I may go into Mockingjay and beyond. I hope you enjoy! :)**

**I also want to thank all of you lovely readers who have favorited, followed, or reviewed. If only you knew how much I appreciate this! **

* * *

We arrive in the Capitol just before lunch, and I feel like I'm just reliving a dream, some far away distant memory. Peeta immediately grips my hand tightly, Effie and Haymitch leading the way to the Tribute Center. We push through crowds of people with flashing cameras, begging for interviews and pictures. We simply smile and wave, which isn't an easy task when you are just a week from your death.

Effie doesn't give us a tour, and Haymitch tells us that since we survived the games just a year ago, we know how to act and such. So until Training begins, Peeta and I are free of coaching.

This leaves us with a lot of free time, which of course we spend most of together on the roof. One morning, we order up a bunch of food, grab some blankets and curl up to watch the sunrise. Peeta sketches for a while and I make at least a dozen crowns of flowers, stacking them on Peeta's head. "You look stunning." I say, smiling. He looks absolutely ridiculous, with his flower crowns. But still he laughs, sets down his sketch and pats his lap.

I gladly except this. We only have a few days left, so who cares? I curl up, my head resting on his thighs and he pulls the blanket up to my waist. His fingers find my hair, knotting and braiding it repeatedly. I continue to make more crowns, setting them in a pile on my stomach. After a while, his hands go still.

"What?" I ask.

"I just wish I could freeze this moment right here, right now, and live in it forever."

Usually, comments like this make me feel guilty and miserable. But Gale isn't here to be jealous and upset with me, so I push away any doubt and slip out, "Me too." It's true, really. I feel some strange connection to Peeta now, and I have a feeling it has something to do with the baby.

"Then you'll allow it?" He says, disbelief and hope in his voice.

"I'll allow it." I say back, returning to my crowns.

We make up a game where we throw apples into the forcefield and catch them as they come back, which leaves a lot of obliterated apples and bruises across our bodies. It's fun, until we run out of apples and decide to just talk instead.

"Tell me a story, about you. When we were little." I tell him, leaning up against his chest.

"Okay." He thinks for a moment, then smiles. "On the first day of school, I think it was about third grade, you brought Prim to school for the first time. Her hair was braided in two braids just like yours, and she was wearing the same dress you wore on your very first day of school. I remember you held her hand the whole morning, and she cried when you let go after the bell rang. You picked her a primrose for her to carry with her. She was so upset after you left, she forgot her flower. I grabbed it, and figured that during lunch I would give it to you. I never did though, I just kept it enclosed in one of my sketchbooks, it dried up and shriveled but it was still beautiful."

"Why'd you keep it?" I ask.

"Because it reminded me of you." He smiles so sweetly, I just can't help it. Gently, I touch my lips to his. "Thanks." I whisper.

"For what?" He says back.

"For being you." I answer.

Eventually I doze off, waking up to Peeta gently shaking my shoulder. "Katniss. Wake up."

"Mmmm..." I mumble, groggy and dazed.

"It's the sunset. I didn't think you'd want to miss it." He says.

"Thanks." I reply, because I really don't. I can count on one hand the number of days I have left and I don't want to miss a single sunset.

* * *

When the sun sinks into the sparkling city, Peeta and I pack up and head back to my room silently. I'm too exhausted to shower, so Peeta tucks me in and kisses me goodnight. I realize this is the first time he's kissed me in so long, so I savor it and pull him down a little, deepening our kiss as fire spreads through me. He pulls away though, too soon, then wishes me goodnight again and heads to the bathroom.

I can't fall asleep. Why did I kiss him like that? There aren't any cameras. There weren't any on the roof either, and I kissed him then too. What is the matter with me? I pull my hand to my stomach, feeling the barely noticeable little bump forming on it. There's a baby in there, and Peeta is half the reason it is.

Do I love Peeta? Of course. But on what level? That I don't know. I willingly kiss him now, and I did give my virginity and purity to him. But my emotions were running so high, I was just distraught and confused. He was too, honestly. He and Gale don't really get along, but seeing anyone get brutally beaten and whipped is enough to make anyone upset.

I try to think of that night, when Gale had been knocked out. Peeta took me up to bed, promising me he'll be back tomorrow. But I couldn't have that. No, I needed him with me then, as much as I needed air. It took a lot of arguing and kissing, but I got him to stay. However, with each kiss, the fire I was feeling grew dangerously fast and I evetually lost control.

And now I am pregnant.

I'm still not asleep when Peeta comes to bed, his hair dripping wet. He frowns when he sees my expression, that twisted look I get when I am about to cry.

"Katniss. Please, don't cry." He says, pulling me up against his chest, one hand holding the back of my head to him, the other gripping my shirt over the small of my back. I still cry though, uncontrollable, shattering sobs that rack my entire body. I cry out all of the guilt I felt the morning after that night, the absolutely miserable sadness when I found out I was pregnant, the unsettling hurt when Peeta volunteered for Haymitch. Peeta just holds me tight, whispering soothing words. He knows that nothing will really make me feel any better, just calm me down until my next breakdown.

Eventually, finally, I cry myself out. I can't tell if it is just the raging hormones, or if I am just legitimately depressed. I settle with both.

"I'm sorry." I say to Peeta, for about the millionth time.

"Don't be, Katniss. Please. We only have a few days left, and I don't want you to be miserable. We have Training tomorrow. Just focus on that okay? We don't even have to go if you don't want to."

"We should though. Haymitch wants us to make allies."

"You know I'm fine with just us."

"I am too, but maybe he's right. Maybe it'd be better to have a few more sets of eyes to cover for us."

"We can figure it out later, okay? Let's talk about something else. How about the baby?"

"No. I'll just start crying again."

"Then pretend we aren't going into the Quell. Just pretend everything is perfect and happy, okay? Now, do you want a boy or a girl?"

I try with all of my might to picture an ideal world without the Games or anything to be scared of. I try to picture being married to Gale, but it's too difficult. We'd always argue, that's for certain. And if anyone had to be the father of my baby, anyone could see that Peeta would be the better parent. I imagine a little boy, running around with Peeta's hair and eyes. Painting, baking, singing, hunting. He'd have all of our best qualities.

"A boy. I want him to be just like you." I admit. He laughs.

"I want a girl. She'd have long dark hair like yours, and you would always braid it the same way so you could match."

"He'd paint with you everyday. You'd teach him to bake, and I'd teach him to hunt." I yawn.

"She'd sing like you, and be so beautiful I'd have to fight off any possible lovers."

"He'd look up to you like you are the world. You'd run the bakery together."

"She would look up to _you _as if you are everything. And she'd definitely love you as much as I do."

"He'd play in the meadow by our house, playing with the mud and bugs and leaves. He'd get so dirty we would have to bathe him twice a day."

"Do you really mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you'd have a baby with me, and we would raise it together?"

"Of course Peeta. Obviously, if I am pregnant."

He waits a long time to answer. I can hear the hesitance in his voice when he asks, "How do you see our relationship?"

"Like you love me, unconditionally. I'm still trying to sort out my feelings. We're more than friends, that's for sure."

"Like best friends?" He jokes.

"Yeah, sure." I yawn again, pulling up the blanket and sinking down under the covers. "Best friends."

He kisses me once gently, before I fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

_Lush, green, grass tickles my feet as I walk through a picturesque meadow. I see Peeta, laughing and spinning while holding up a bundle, as if to show to the world that he is proud of it. As I come closer to Peeta, his face brightens almost the second he sees me. _

_"Katniss, look. She's smiling." He passes me the bundle, and I look into an infant's sparkling blue eyes. "Oh, Peeta. She's just like you." I say, my eyes pulling away from my beautiful child and going back to Peeta. But he's gone._

_The grass has gone, turned into grey snow. The trees surrounding me are bare and dead, unlike the glittering green ones that were here just a moment before. The sky has turned a disturbing blood red, getting increasingly darker and more terrifying every minute._

_"Peeta?" I yell, scanning my surroundings, urgently trying to find him. My baby screams, a horrible, painful scream. I hold her to my chest, frantically trying to find Peeta and leave this hell. Random voices hiss my name... "Katnissssss..." I whip my head around, face to face with Snow. He licks his bloody lips before driving a knife into Peeta. He raises the knife just above my child's throat..._

"NO!" I scream, coming to. Sweat coats my body, making my clothes stick to my body. My hair is plastered to my face and neck. I try to cling to reality, try to tell myself it wasn't real.

"Katniss? Katniss. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. It's okay. I've got you. You're safe." Peeta whispers, holding me again as I start crying. _You were dead. He was going to kill her... _I think. My hands hold my little bump tight, as if to protect my unborn child.

Nothing will hurt this baby.

I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my arms around Peeta's neck, burying my face into his shirt. Surely it will be ruined tomorrow, between my mental breakdowns and this. He holds me in his lap, rocking me back and forth. I feel his face burrow into my hair, and his lips just barely touch my neck. Fire licks the spot his lips just brushed, and I tilt my head to meet them with my own lips.

I taste my salty tears in the kiss, lips moving urgently. I press myself harder into him, clinging to him for dear life because this is all I can think of. I need Peeta.

He kisses each tear that falls from my eyes, and in turn I capture them with my lips. We sit there, tongues dancing, lips touching, for what seems like hours, days. I can't get enough.

He's the one that pulls away, but he still holds me tight against his chest. "I love you, Katniss."

I don't reply. I can't, my feelings are so jumbled together in my head I can not pinpoint the ones that are for Peeta. There is a love, a strong love. But I just don't know whether or not I actually _love _him.

One thing is for certain, though. I would die without Peeta.

I simply cannot live without my boy with the bread, my dandelion in the spring, my hope. He is my life now, whether he is my family or my lover or both.

I need Peeta like I need air.

What does this mean, exactly? I don't know. I can't imagine living without him. I cling to my nightmare, before it was terrifying. The look of endearment in his eyes as he held our child. He loved her, but on a different level than he loves me.

Do exactly do I love Peeta?

We are obviously more than even good friends, because good friends don't sleep together and kiss like this. Good friends don't get eachother pregnant.

For some reason, I really can't view Peeta as my boyfriend, although even _boyfriend _seems like a subdued term.

I need to detach myself from him, that would be better. If I had just kept hating him during those first Games, then I wouldn't be upset about him going in with me again, or being pregnant for that matter.

There's no way I'm letting him go now. We are connected, me and Peeta. This unborn thing I am carrying around is the link between us, and I almost hope that isn't the only thing that links us.

Peeta notices my silence, and although it's dark, I can tell he is trying to decipher my expression.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"Quit saying that, Katniss. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I have everything to be sorry for."

"No. Look, I'll stop telling you that I love you if it makes you feel better. Please, Katniss. Just be honest. If you don't want me here, I'll leave. You can go home, live your life. Katniss, I just want you to be happy."

"I don't want that! I doesn't matter whether or not I love you back, I can't live without you!" Before I can do something stupid, like cry some more, I bury my face into my pillow and try with all my might to go back to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up before him. I carefully get out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom, hoping the shower won't wake Peeta.

As I undress, I spend an unusually long amount of time just staring at my stomach in disbelief. How can there possibly be a baby in there? My fingers gently stroke the little bump, which is barely noticeable. To anyone else, it would just look like I'm just gaining a little weight or something. But to me, and probably Peeta, it's obvious.

I step into the shower, just standing under the warm water. Although I have one of these showers in my house now, I still haven't gotten used to it.

I press the button that sprays down vanilla smelling soap. Peeta likes this the most on me, and after keeping him up most of the night, I figure it couldn't hurt.

After I have very thoroughly cleansed myself of anything, I dry myself off, and walk back into the bedroom wrapped tightly in my towel to grab my Training outfit.

Peeta isn't there, he must have left to change. I drop the towel, put on some undergarments, and squeeze into the skintight suit I'm forced to wear for today.

It's still too early to go down to breakfast, so I walk down the hall to Peeta's room. I'm not surprised when I discover he hasn't locked it. I hear the shower running, so I just sit on his bed, my hands clasped over my bump.

The shower turns off, and a few moments later, Peeta comes into the room. His expression is shocked, he wasn't planning on having me just sitting here when he got out. He quickly grabs his uniform, places it over himself, and darts back into the bathroom.

He was naked.

This shouldn't make me blush like I am anymore. I've obviously seen Peeta naked before, but still, the thought of it makes my skin grow hot.

He comes back out again, this time fully clothed. "Morning, Katniss." He says, sitting beside me so he can adjust his leg.

"Good morning Peeta." I say, trying to hide my blush. "I should've knocked, sorry."

"That's okay, I think we know what we look like naked now."

"Yeah. I guess. But next time I'll knock. We don't have to go to breakfast for about an hour or so. It's only 6:00."

"That's good. I was actually thinking we should talk."

I prepare myself for a long argument. When will he accept that I want him to father this baby?

"About what?" I venture hesitantly.

"About us. The baby. I'm sorry about lastnight, Katniss. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"I meant what I said. About needing you, and not being able to live without you."

"Really? I figured you were just trying to shut me up."

I laugh. "No, I mean it. Honestly. You are part of me now, and this thing is living proof."

He puts his hand up to my stomach. "Now you will always have a piece of me."

"Peeta. No, you aren't doing this. You will not die to save my life, okay?"

"Katniss. Please, let me. I'm saving both of your lives."

"No! I won't let you!"

"You can't kill yourself for me. You have to protect yourself and that baby."

"Then you can't do the same!"

I run out, slamming the door behind me.

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**I hope you liked it, and HAPPY READING!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life _really_**** likes giving me lemons, that's for certain. **

**Okay, so this chapter picks up on the second day of Training. It is a bit fluffier than usual, so bear with me. I promise there will be little fluff once the Quell starts.**

**AND to those of you who have noticed my mistakes, don't be afraid to yell at me! I except criticism and stuff, so don't feel bad for telling me about my grammar and spelling mistakes. I appreciate it! :)**

**To KrazyMadGirl, I really like your idea, and I will most likely use that possibly in the next chapter. **

**Just a shout out to all of my totally awesome reviewers, thanks so much to**

**Dandelion95, KrazyMadGirl, AlmightyTaco123, thebakerswifey, Sinares, kayola15, and the guest :)****  
**

**I greatly appreciate it! **

**The next chapter will probably cover the interviews, though I don't know if I should include that. Hmm. **

**Also, I want to encourage you lovely readers to visit my new Tumblr, I will be posting sneak previews of this story and occasional little snippets of my original story that I am currently writing on top of this one. **

**It's dandilyonk dot tumblr dot com :) The password is dyingflame**

**Without further ado, here is chapter three! **

* * *

Even Haymitch is unusually quiet at breakfast. Peeta and I eat our food, but it feels like thick cement as it slithers down my throat. Eventually, I give up on eating and push my food away. It will surely make it's return in a few minutes.

I doubt Haymitch has informed Effie about my pregnancy, when she caught Peeta and I sleeping in the same bed she nearly fainted. People our age should not be sharing beds at night, according to her. She attempted locking Peeta and I in, but eventually my practically beating down the door woke up an attendant who was kind enough to let me in with Peeta.

After lastnight, I don't think Effie will object to our sleeping arrangements.

Training started yesterday. Our little argument we had was pushed away, and we appeared in the training center as an inseperable team. We still haven't agreed on who will kill themselves for the other, and I know we never will.

No amount of arguing and just being stubborn will keep me from him though. I feel like I am forever connected to Peeta, as if he is part of me in whatever way I can manage.

At about 9:50 or so, Peeta and I head down to the elevator. Effie and Haymitch argued for almost thirty minutes yesterday about whether or not she needs to escort us to the training center, and eventually they settle with allowing her to escort us to the elevator. Still, like yesterday, she makes a fuss over our hair and orders us to behave.

As soon as the elevator doors close, Peeta's fingers find my own. There is a sweet comfort that comes with this little gesture, and I squeeze his hand lightly. He doesn't seem mad at me anymore, just sad.

We all are.

I notice that barely anyone has shown up for training, so Peeta and I decide to split up and cover more territory. I head to the knot tying station, hoping to pick up some of the skills I had failed at last year. While I'm fumbling over one particularly difficult knot, a pair of hands cover my own and finish it for me. I pull away, knowing it isn't Peeta and meet the incredibly green eyes of Finnick. He flashes me a grin and unties the knot, then retying it into a noose and pretends to hang himself for my pleasure.

I roll my eyes and wander off to find Peeta with the morphlings in the camoflauge area. He tries to teach me some basic painting techniques, but I soon give up and drag him with me to the archery station.

Unfortunately, before I can even get my hands on one of the silver bows, Peeta is called over by a group of Careers. He gives me a light kiss and promises to be back but I can't stop thinking of last year when he was with the Careers, hunting me down.

Angrily, I shoot every target nearly perfectly, puncturing the dummies in the heart. When I get bored of this, the trainer starts throwing up little fake birds for me to shoot at, increasing the number of birds each time.

When I manage to successfully shoot down five birds with one arrow, I realize the entire place is dead silent. I turn around to see everybody, even the morphlings, mesmerized with my shooting. They stare at me longily, either wishing to have my skill or to kill me right here and now.

Peeta says something to Brutus, then heads back over to me. Everyone slowly goes back to what they were doing before, seemingly forgetting the incident.

It's time to leave for lunch, so Peeta and I get to the back of the line. As I slop some stew into my bowl, Peeta smiles at me and says, "You did amazing back there. You had everyone's attention."

"Thanks. It was kind of fun." I reply, not meeting his eyes. I'm still not happy with him hanging around with the Careers.

"Where do you want to sit?" He asks, before noticing that the tables are all pulled together again. I groan and take a seat next to Cecelia, picking at my stew.

It only takes three bites for the nausea to set in. I clamp my hand over my mouth and dart to the restrooms, hoping I make it to the toilet in time.

As I start vomiting, I feel a pair of hands lift my hair up and rub my back in slow circles. I'm hoping it's Peeta, but at this point I don't really care. All I want is for this to be over.

"It's okay, Katniss. You're okay." Peeta says, kissing the top of my head. He helps me back up to the sink, and I rinse out my mouth for a good three minutes, trying to get the vile taste out of it.

We spend a long while just holding eachother. I wonder what everyone else is thinking right now, why I'm getting sick after just barely eating. I decide to tell them it's just a stomach flu or something.

Peeta holds my hand the entire walk back to lunch, ignoring the piercing stares. Nobody says anything as we sit back down, and Peeta never lets go of my hand, even when he resumes eating. I stare at my nearly full bowl, not looking up once the rest of lunch.

After training, Peeta and I walk back to the elevators and shoot up alone. I still feel a slightly nauseous, so I walk to my room and shower before dinner. I wash as slowly as possible, deeply inhaling the sweet vanilla bubbles and letting it soothe my aching limbs.

I'm late to dinner, but Haymitch pretends to not notice. He's been overly sympathetic on me lately. Effie, however, is furious and fuming when I take a seat next to Peeta.

"Katniss, you need to pay attention to the time. This is the second time you've been late!"

"She wasn't feeling well today, Effie." Peeta says lightly. She lets out an agitated huff and picks at her food the rest of the meal.

"Are you feeling better, Katniss?" Peeta says quietly, gripping my hand from beneath the table. I shake my head. The nausea has passed but as the Quell gets closer, the worse I feel. Peeta sighs, not knowing what to say. Nobody knows how to comfort me these days.

After a while, my stomach begins to rumble and I eat my roll and some vegetables to quiet it down. My food is cold, but it tastes fine enough and I enjoy what I can of it.

"Tomorrow is your private sessions. You need to be up before noon to prepare for them."

"What are you two going to do this year?" Haymitch asks.

"I'm just going to wing do some camoflauge or something." Peeta says, shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"Same here. I don't really care what they think of me."

"You'll do great, like last year." Peeta reassures me, smiling sadly at me. I lean my head on his shoulder and stab my steak with my fork, imagining it's Snow. It calms me down.

After dinner, Effie goes to redo her makeup and Haymitch pulls us aside.

"I think we need to tell her. She's already starting to wonder." He gestures to my bump.

"You can tell her. I don't want to deal with any lecturing right now." He nods, running his hand through his hair. "Listen. Don't do anything stupid tomorrow. They aren't going to take things as lightly as last year."

With that, he leaves us alone.

We scramble through a box of tapes, trying to find some that we haven't watched. Peeta puts in the tape of the 45th Games, the year that the female victor from 10 won.

She is plain and boring, surviving in the snowy arena by building dozens of fires to distract the other tributes then kills them off from behind, which is effective for a while. She nearly loses an arm when she gets into a bloody fight with the tribute from 6.

Peeta shuts it off arbruptly as she starts carving out his organs while he screams, and I am relieved. We stare at the blank screen a while, obviously a bit shaken from those games.

"Why don't we do something else?" Peeta suggests, sitting up straight. I nod, not able to find the words to speak.

We go back to his room and grab a bunch of blankets and pillows and head to the roof. I lay out a bed and we watch the stars, curled up together. The icy wind nips at my cheeks and nose, but being cocooned with Peeta in this massive bundle of blankets is warm and comfortable.

I try to point out some of the constellations my father taught me on some nighttime hunting trips. The lights of the Capitol make this difficult though, so I end up just guessing.

"That's Orion, he's an archer." I say. I swallow and continue, "It was also my father's name."

"Orion." Peeta repeats, tasting the word. He chuckles, vibrating his chest where I am resting my head. "Just like you, Katniss."

I smile, although I know he can't see it.

"You know, we should think of names."

"Names? Like for the baby?" I question.

"Yes."

"Peeta, you know I can't -"

"Just pretend Katniss. Like we were before." And since I really don't have anything to lose by conjuring up some names, I agree.

"What names do you think are fitting for a baby of two mentally unstable victors?" I ask.

"Well, I think we should break my parents' tradition of naming their children after breads."

Now it's my turn to laugh. "Hmm. Yeah." I say. "My parents named Prim and I after plants."

"Katniss sounds a lot better than Peeta does. I like Orion."

"Like the constellation?" I ask him, surprised by his answer.

"No. Like your father."

"Orion." I repeat. I can see my son named that, but what if it's a girl? My eyes well up. I'll never know what this baby will be, or ever see it for that matter. With saving Peeta, I am in turn killing both myself and the child Peeta has always wanted.

The tears are running freely down my cheeks now, wetting one spot of Peeta's shirt. He sits up quickly, holding me against him. "Oh no, I didn't mean to upset you Katniss. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's just that I don't know what to do."

"We will find a way to make this work. I promise."

"But either way it isn't going to work. Either way I'm going to kill this baby."

"What do you mean?"

"If you die for me, I will be ruined. I'll turn into my mother and live in a world of oblivion."

Realization settles in for him. "I really mean that much to you?" He asks in almost disbelief.

"You are part of me now Peeta. Killing you is the same as killing me." I admit.

"Let's talk about something else." He suggests.

"Peeta. Look." I say, pointing to the golden stream of light that shoots across the sky. "It's a shooting star."

Peeta stares at it for a long time, even after it's gone. "I've never seen one before."

"I've only ever seen one once." I tell him. "They're beautiful."

He squints at the sky a moment longer, then looks at me. "We should go to bed. It's almost midnight."

Memories of the Victory Tour resurface, with Plutarch Heavensbee telling me his meeting starts at midnight. There is a nagging sensation that makes me feel as if he isn't telling me something. That he was hinting a very important detail.

But what?

I try to dismiss the thought, but at best all I end up doing is pushing it to the back of my head and try to enjoy just being with Peeta. There are so few days left for me to enjoy that I don't care much about pleasing Snow or pleasing Gale or pleasing Peeta anymore. Although I know Peeta will love me anyways, even if I can't return the feelings. At least not entirely.

As we settle into bed, Peeta gives me one kiss on my forehead, then pulls me against his chest. He falls asleep almost immediately, and as my eyes begin to droop, I feel his hand just barely, briefly stroke my bump.

* * *

_I watch as Cato drives a knife through Peeta's stomach, blood immediately oozing from the wound. He falls to his knees, frozen in horrible pain as Cato starts carving his flesh around his heart, digging deeper and deeper with each pull of the blade._

_I push him away with every ounce of strength I can manage, successfully throwing him to the ground where he stays for a moment. My shaking hands struggle to cover the holes over his heart and through his stomach, but the blood is gushing out far too fast to know that Peeta will live. I kiss his lips briefly before he starts sputtering blood._

_"The...baby.." He coughs out with another wave of scarlet mind remembers that I left our baby under the tree..._

_It's too late. Cato is hobbling towards the baby, bloody knife in hand as I watch Peeta and my child prepare for death._

"No! No! Leave us alone!" I scream at the top of my lungs. They can't have her, not my baby. Not Peeta.

"Katniss, wake up! It's just a nightmare!" Peeta yells, struggling to hold my kicking body to his. "Sshh. It's okay."

"No! You're dead! Give me her!"

"Katniss. It's me, it's Peeta. I'm fine, you're fine."

"You're dead... I can't let her go too..." I whine, burying my face in his neck. She's probably dead by now. It's too late... I'm always too late.

"It's okay. Sshh. Go back to sleep Katniss." He soothes, lightly rocking me back and forth.

I just sob in reply. This nightmare was so real, I can still see the blood on my hands.

I don't calm back down. Not for a long, long while.

Even after Peeta has dozed off, I don't sleep. I just lie there stuck in a half way state between brutal fanstasy and reality, and absolutely horrified by what I just watched.

I will do anything to keep Peeta and his child alive.

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**How was it? Not terrible? I hope not :)**

**Happy reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay. So it took me forever to get this one up, as usual. I typed and retyped and edited this little bugger dozens of times, but I just couldn't get it right. So this is going to be a shorter chapter. Sorry guys :/ I hope it isn't too lame and boring and whatnot. I will try harder to get the next chapter up faster :)**

**Also, chapter 5 will be the beginning of the games. I haven't decided how, exactly, I will change things up, but expect some twists in the plot. **

**Thanks to all who read, favorited, and reviewed! Thanks guys!**

* * *

"Now for District Twelve, Peeta Mellark." Caesar says as we watch the television. Effie is wriggling in nervousness, but Haymitch, Peeta, and I sit as still as stone. What will be my punishment for hanging Seneca Crane? Or Peeta's, for painting Rue?

"A score of 12." He announces, quite surprised. That's Hunger Games history. "Quite an astonishing score, you sponsors shouldn't overlook it! Alright, now to Miss Katniss Everdeen." He shuffles some papers around, though I know it's just for show... "Another 12! Great job to our tributes, and have a happy Hunger Games!"

For a moment, nobody says anything. "Why'd they do that?" I ask, quietly, shocked.

"So that the others will have no choice but to target you. Now go to bed, I can't stand to look at either of you." Haymitch says flatly, getting up and stumbling off down the hallway to get another drink.

Peeta and I look at eachother for just one second, and it's all it takes to start laughing. I only last a moment before I fall face-first into Peeta's lap.

For the first time, possibly ever, I am actually crying from laughter.

When I somehow manage to sit back up, I notice Peeta's expression. He's looking at me as if I am crazy, which maybe I am. But right now, I don't care.

"What's so funny?" Peeta asks me. I take a deep breath, and let out shakily, "I don't even know." My stomach is aching furiously from all of that laughing.

"Katniss, is everything okay?" Effie says curiously, walking back into the room wearing her pajamas. "I could hear you from in my bathroom."

"She's fine, Effie. Just tired. She was just laughing." Peeta answers for me. "Come on, Katniss. Let's go to bed."

Effie stares at us for a moment. "Seperate rooms please."

"Effie, you know what happened -" I start to object.

"No. We wouldn't want you getting pregnant. You are much too young to be sharing beds anyways."

Peeta smirks at me. "We just want to sleep. That's all."

I can't answer because I start laughing again.

Effie gives me a stern look, then glances between me and Peeta. "Alright. But I swear, if you two do anything-"

"Got it Effie. Thanks." I say, pulling Peeta down the hall.

"I take it Haymitch hasn't told her yet." Peeta says, chuckling a little. "I thought she'd want you to get pregnant, considering we're the 'most talked about couple in all of Panem.'" Peeta mimicks Effie's accent.

"I'm going to get dressed. I'll be back. I say, standing to kiss his cheek before closing the bathroom door behind me.

When I come back out, Peeta is already snoring lightly. I crawl in next to him as silent as I can manage.

The next morning we are waken by my prep team. Octavia starts bawling almost immediately, apparently just the sight of Peeta and I sleeping together is enough to send her to tears. Venia dismisses her, and she goes out sobbing.

Peeta has to return to his room for prep, so I'm left alone with Flavius and Venia. They have me soak in a vile tub of goo, to remove my body hair. I dry off and stand before them, naked, as they tweeze any hairs that managed to escape the removal cream.

It's then that they notice my bump. "Katniss, are you putting on weight?"

In any other situation, I would have been offended. But since I technically am gaining weight because of this baby, I just answer "Yes."

Venia stares at it a while longer. Then realization settles in. "Oh my. You're not. Are you?"

I begin to panic. Flavius starts crying and leaves, and Venia doesn't speak once until Cinna comes to dismiss her hours later.

"We would like you to know what a... privilege it has been to make you look your best." She steals one last glance my little bump then hastens from the room.

I clear my throat and ask him what I am to wear for tonight. He unzips the bag, revealing one of the wedding dresses I wore for the photo shoot. "President Snow put the order in himself."

I stare at it for a very long time, despising Snow for turning my beautiful gown into my shroud.

"Well, it'd be a shame to waste such a pretty dress."

He helps me into the dress, and I can't help but giving a shrug of complaint. "Was it always this heavy?" I ask, lifting up the long, white sleeves.

"I had to make some alterations around your waist, for the baby." My eyes widen at what he's just said.

"How did you know that?"

"Haymitch told me. No matter, Katniss. Everything will work out. I'll make sure of it." He promises as he sits me down and begins curling my hair.

Long, dark, and loose ringlets fall around my shoulders. He fits the veil to my head, fingering the largest pearl in the middle of the headband.

"Peeta will think you're beautiful. Now, because of the alterations, don't raise your arms above your head until you twirl."

"I'll be twirling again?"

"Yes, if Caeser doesn't ask you to, you suggest it. Okay?"

"Alright. Thank you Cinna." He leads me to the elevator where we meet up with Haymitch, Effie, Portia, and Peeta. He's dressed in an elegant black suit with white gloves. He looks away sadly when he sees my dress.

The rest of the tributes are already waiting when we arrive. Peeta holds my hand tightly as we get into line.

Everyone's reactions to our outfits are as expected. Anger and shock from most, Finnick laughs and Mags pats my shoulder. Even Johanna comes up to me, straightens my pearl necklace, and whispers "Make him pay for it, okay?"

I nod, not sure of what she means.

When it comes time for me to go on, the attendant pushes both of us on stage.

The audience screams and cries out when they see Peeta and I on stage together, holding hands and wearing our wedding clothes.

Eventually, Caeser is able to speak. "We thought, since you two are engaged and were last year's victors, it would be fitting to let you interview together. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to see our wedding. At least you get to see my dress. Isn't just the most beautiful thing?" I say first, and I know this is the right time. I carefully lift my heavy sleeves above my head and spin.

Smoke rises around me, engulfing me entirely in flame. It doesn't burn though, and I am certain Cinna is behind this so I keep spinning until the smoke thickens then dies out entirely.

When I catch a glimpse of myself on the screen, I realize what I've become.

I'm a mockingjay. My dress is the same design, only entirely black and covered in delicate little feathers. I give my sleeves, or should I say wings, a little flap, then take my seat again next to Peeta.

Caeser congradulates Cinna for such an outstanding dress, but I can tell he knows it's more than a flashy attempt at sponsors. I am a token of the rebellion.

Peeta smiles at me sadly. "That was amazing."

"It certainly was. Is there anything else you'd like to say." I start to shake my head, but Peeta begins to speak.

"Actually, I want to tell you all something." He looks at me for confrontation. I widen my eyes, pleading he won't announce my pregnancy to the world.

Snow will kill this baby the first chance he gets.

"We're already married." He says, looking at me, then at the audience. Everyone is dead silent except the occasional sniffles here and there.

"But... how can that be?" Caeser asks.

"We aren't officially married. Katniss's mother would have never approved and neither of us wanted to wait any longer. We just had a toasting." He breifly describes 12's marriage ritual.

"Were your families there?" He asks. I grip Peeta's hand tighter. What is my mother going to think of all of this? Surely, she won't believe Peeta and I actually married. Gale...

"No. We didn't even tell Haymitch."

"What are your thoughts on this, Katniss?"

"Just that I am grateful I had some time with Peeta, even if it was limited." I turn to look at Peeta, but he's just staring fiercly at the wall behind Caesar.

"I wish we would have waited. We should have waited until the whole thing was done officially."

"Me too." I say quietly. Where is he going with this?

"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"

Peeta squeezes my hand lightly, and it's not until then that I realize I've been shaking. I look down, my eyes watering at even the thought of what my mother and Prim and Gale are making of all of this.

"Maybe I'd think that too, Caesar, if it weren't for the baby." Peeta says bitterly.

I feel my face grow pale, the blood rushing to my toes. What has he done? Peeta has either sentenced both us of to certain death or managed to save me from the arena.

No. I'm dead anyways. It's better to accept it now.

I look up to see Caesar's face, and realize he is staring right at me.

The buzzer sounds, and Caesar is still gaping at us. Peeta gives a swift, dismissing wave to the screaming crowd and we walk silently off stage to join the other victors.

The crowd is in absolute chaos. Crying, screaming for a change. Even the most bloodthirsty, crazy Games fanatic can see how barbaric it is.

The Capitol anthem starts blasting, rattling my bones and effectively drowning out most of the crowd's desperate pleas for change.

Peeta is still latched tightly onto me, tears streaming down his face. I look to my left, at Chaff and what's left of his arm and grab onto it, why exactly, I am unsure.

Then, all at once, the victors begin to link hands. Up and down the row, everyone is joined together in unity, facing the audience. Johanna steps slightly forward, still linked and yells something over the music. But I can't hear her.

The lights go black, but it's too late. Everyone in all of Panem has seen us.

And I love it.

Peeta and I stumble through the massive swarms of people, pushing and shoving our way backstage to find the elevator.

Johanna and Finnick race towards us, right at the very moment the doors close. Peeta and I shoot upward alone.

"Katniss. I'm so sorry, I should have told you first-" He asks, wiping the fallen tear off of my cheek.

"No. It's fine." I answer. Part of me, deep down, wishes he hadn't told them. This baby is safe, for now. But I know Snow will target me, whether or not I am pregnant.

I place my hand over my stomach, rubbing the bump with my thumb. How could I love something that doesn't even exist yet so much?

Peeta half smiles down at me, clutches my hand tighter, and leads me out of the elevator.

Whatever happens next, we will face it together. All three of us.

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**Horrible? Awful? Decent? Okay? Let me know! :) Thanks so much and I'm really sorry for taking so long and producing a lame-o chapter. **

**HAPPY READING! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**So sorry it took me (yet again) so long to upload. I was mourning. **

**Please find some room in your hearts for the families of the victims in Connecticut. :( For those of you have not yet heard, there was a very tragic school shooting yesterday. A young man killed his mother who was a teacher at Sandy Hook elementary in Connecticut. He then proceeded to shoot and kill 26 more students and teachers, ages ranging from 5 to 56. It was really horrible and sad :(**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter guys, it's a little short again. Super sorry about that :/**

**Thank you all so, so much for reassuring me that my previous chapter wasn't as pathetic as I had thought. Thanks to all who favorited, followed, and reviewed. Love you guys!**

* * *

We are woken early. Peeta detaches himself from me, kissing me gently before slipping out the door behind Portia to go back to his room for prep. My guts twist in paranoia, the next time I see him he may not be breathing.

Cinna lets me take a long, lingering shower before escorting me to the hovercraft. We will finish prep in the Launch Room.

The hovercraft ride takes a good thirty minutes, so to save time, Cinna decides to braid my hair on the way. I hangs past the edge of my ribs, dripping with cold water from my shower.

When we arrive, Cinna opens the box that contains my uniform. He rubs the blue material between his fingers, frowning. "This won't provide much in the way of protection."

"Sun?" I ask.

"Possibly, if it's been treated." He unzips the back and helps me into it. It's a very simple, bright blue jumpsuit that clings to my skin. Two long purple stripes start at my armpits and end at my ankles, with a matching plastic purple belt hanging loosely on my waist.

I can't force myself to eat, so Cinna tries to get me to drink some water. I can't stop imagining the powerful thirst and dehydration I experience last year, so I keep sipping gulps of water until it's time for me to take my place in the tube.

"Remember, girl on fire. I'm still betting on you." He says embracing me briefly and stepping back as we wait for the plate to rise.

But it doesn't. 10 seconds. Twenty.

Why are they delaying this? The look on Cinna's face says he's unsure too.

Suddenly the door behind him bursts open and three Peacekeepers spring into the room. Two of them pin Cinna's arms behind him and cuff him while the other hits him in the temple with such force he's knocked to his knees. But they keep hitting him with metal studded gloves, opening gashes on his face and body. I'm screaming my head off, banging on the unyielding glass, trying to reach him. They ignore me completely as they drag his limp body out the door, and all that's left are the blood streaks on the floor.

Sickened and terrified, the plate finally begins to rise. Warm, salty breeze catches my hair and I squint at the ground, trying to understand why its moving. I look down at my toes, watching the blue waves lap up over my boots. I raise my eyes and stare at the water that surrounds me in every direction.

I can only form one clear thought.

_This is no place for a girl on fire._

E

As soon as the gong rings, I dive to my left. I feel lighter than air as I effortlessly cut through the waves, propelling myself to the island that houses the Cornucopia. The second I arrive on shore, I dart to the mouth of the golden horn and grab a golden bow and two quivers of arrows.

There is someone behind me. I'm alerted by who knows what, maybe a shift in the sand. I don't hesitate before I gently lift the arrow into place and turn.

Finnick, glistening and gorgeous, stands a few yards back, with a black trident poised to attack. A net dangles from his other hand. He's smiling, slyly and rigid in anticipation.

"You can swim too. Where did you learn that in 12?" He says, not moving.

"We have a big bathtub." I answer, my position locked in place.

"You must. You like the arena?"

"Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you."

For a moment we're sizing eachother up, our weapons, our skill. Then he grins.

"Lucky thing we're allies right?" He says smoothly.

I'm almost about to send the arrow flying into his chest when his bracelet glitters in the sunlight. Haymitch's bangle.

It's a slap in the face. _Trust Finnick. _I can hear him practically snarling the order.

"Right!" I snap, but Finnick yells for me to duck. I watch as his trident whizzes through the air and immediately buries itself into the man from 5's chest.

For some reason I am just now remembering Peeta. I dart away from the Cornucopia, eager to see him, hopefully alive. I breath a sigh of relief when I see him stranded on his plate.

Finnick follows without question. "I'll get him." He shoves his tridents and nets into my arms and dives into the sea.

I keep a careful watch around me, making sure no enemies sneak up from behind. During this, Finnick has successfully retrieved Peeta and is hauling him onto shore.

I drop everything in my hands and rush up to him. "Peeta." I say softly, taking him in my arms. He gives me a salty kiss and smiles at me. "Hello, again." He says as if it's been only a matter of minutes we've spent apart. "We've got allies."

"Yes." I answer, picking my stuff back up. "Just as Haymitch intended."

"Did we make deals with anyone else?"

"Only Mags, I think." I say.

"I like Mags. Plus she's the only one here who doesn't really want me dead."

Finnick squints, then spots her bobbing in the waves. He sets his weapons beside me and dives in.

Miraculously enough, nobody is even coming close to the Cornucopia. I suppose the thought of trying to kill the two most recent victors wasn't a very bright idea.

Peeta begins taking some of the quivers of arrows and countless knives from my body. "Katniss. Are you okay?" He asks, glancing down to my stomach. I nod.

"I'm fine." I say just as Finnick drags Mags up on shore. "Grab whatever you want and lets go!" Finnick instructs, snatching a few more deadly weapons. Finnick manages to haul Mags and Peeta, and keep up the same speed I'm going as we tread through the waves. It's not long before we reach another sandy beach, just yards away from a thick forest. No. Not forest. Jungle.

Finnick sets them down and I tell Peeta I am going to go climb a tree to assess the damage. The trunk is smooth and slippery, and it doesn't exactly help that I'm soaking wet and carrying a good amount of arrows and knives.

Nothing could have prepared me to see the utter gore before me. Surrounding the Cornucopia is countless blue bodies surrounded by violet water. I'm too far away to know who lives and dies. It doesn't matter, I suppose.

Tiny bodies battle on the small island, one tribute beheads another, sending their head flying into the water with a sickly trail of blood behind it. I begin to feel ill, so I decide to climb back down.

"Let's keep moving." I say, swallowing hard. Finnick nods and takes off running uphill with Mags sprawled across his back. I decide to let Finnick lead the way, and Peeta and I manage to at least jog a mile or two before Finnick requests a rest.

It's so hot, so sweltering hot that all I want in the world is a drink of water. Not the salty, blood stained stuff miles behind us. Clean, crisp, icy cold water.

My tongue feels like sandpaper and I wonder how long I can last without water now that I'm pregnant. Probably not long, I have two mouths to quench at the moment.

We reduce our run to a fast walk, and the jungle just gets thicker the farther we move along. Peeta has to slash away at the vines with his knife, since Mags is too weak to even walk.

As I'm walking just a foot behind Peeta, my eyes catch a little ripple in the sky. It's faint, but a bit darker blue than the rest of the sky. Suddenly, I realize what it is.

My mouth opens to cry out a warning just as Peeta drives his knife into the forcefield.

He is thrown back ten feet in a split second, landing with a loud thud in the sand.

"Peeta!" I scream, throwing everything I have behind me and sprinting to his body. "Peeta?" I say again, brushing my fingers along his lips where no breath comes out. He was panting just moments before.

I rest my head on his chest, where I always sleep, expecting to find his heart drumming against my temple.

Instead I find silence.

I slowly pull my head away, staring down in his body in shock. I'm pale and cold and shaking all of a sudden. _No, he cannot be dead. _

Finnick pushes me away gently. He checks his pulse on his neck and wrist, then brings his hand up and plugs his nose.

"No!" I scream, trying with all my might to shove Finnick away because surely he is trying to make sure Peeta is dead by killing him himself.

Then Finnick punches me so squarely in the chest that I am thrown backwards into a tree. The air is knocked from my lungs and I'm seeing stars. Then I remember Peeta and force myself to at least open my eyelids.

I'm stunned by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. It's so bizarre, even for Finnick, that I am numb with surprise and the pain of being tossed into a tree. No, he isn't kissing him. I remember my mother doing the same thing in serious situations, once in a blue moon. I realize this when I see Peeta's chest rising and falling, then see Finnick sit back on his heels as Peeta gives a small cough.

I'm at his side in a second flat. "Peeta." I whisper, brushing his damp curls off of his forehead. He gives me a weak smile and squeaks out, "Careful. There's a forcefield up ahead."

I laugh, but there are tears streaming down my cheeks. I embrace him, wrapping my arms tightly around him in fear of letting Peeta go again.

I won't let it happen. Now I'm making those awful choking sounds that come when I'm crying. I bury my face in Peeta's chest. He holds me for a moment. "Katniss are you okay?"

I nod against him. It's ironic, really. Him asking me if I'm alright when he just died.

When I open my eyes back up, I notice the glint of gold hanging from Peeta's neck. "What's this?" I ask in the most normal voice I can possibly manage.

"My token. I thought we could match." It's a golden necklace with a mockingjay engraved in it. I remember Finnick's bangle. We're a team.

Finnick glances between the two of us, a very confused look plastered to his perfect face.

"Do you think you can keep going? Or should we make a camp here?"

"No, I can go. It's too out in the open here. I'm fine really. If we can just move slowly."

"Slowly is better than not at all. How are you holding up, Katniss?"

I blow my nose on some moss that Mags hands me. It's soft, the moss. Gentle and surprisingly absorbent. "I'm okay. Just my hormones." I give my stomach a dismissive pat. Which, I suppose, the hormones do play into it. But between watching Cinna get beaten to a pulp and Peeta dying, I'm definitely not handling things well.

Finnick nods and helps Mags back up. I stand up myself, sniffling a little as I pull Peeta up with me. We walk in a very slow manner, practically not moving at all, for about half of a mile before Peeta stumbles and can't find the energy to get back up.

Finnick agrees to set up a camp here, and we do have some concealment. The moment we stop moving, a silver parachute lands in my palm.

"Who do you think it's for?" I ask.

"Why don't we let Peeta claim it since he died today?" I hand it to Peeta, and he opens it to reveal a metal tube, slightly tapered at on end.

What is it? We don't know. It's useless as a weapon, certainly isn't a looking glass or anything of use really. Pointless.

Finnick and I assemble makeshift beds of moss and vines. Peeta and Mags draw with sticks in the sand, Mags doodling some simple fish and Peeta sketching elaborate flowers. I smile.

I volunteer to keep guard, mostly because I want time to think to myself. I lay on my back in the sand, my bow resting atop my stomach. One hand supports my head, the other holds an arrow notched in place in my bow, poised for attack.

I stare at the sky, it's black backround and twinkling fluorescent lights. There is something else too, an almost transparent white fog descending over me. I stare at it curiously, sitting upright.

I let out a scream just as my skin begins to burn, each droplet of the fog igniting my flesh.

* * *

**Please keep your hearts open for those families :**(

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Happy reading! And happy holidays to you, whatever it is you celebrate. I probably won't get a new chapter up for a while, finals are this week and the week after is my Christmas break. I promise I will try though! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes, I am finally back. Yes, I realize I haven't updated in a _very _long time. Yes, I am sorry. But I had my reasons for taking so long.**

**I figured there wouldn't be much else throughout Catching Fire that I would change, and I kind of felt like all I was doing was copying and pasting everything from the book. So I picked things back up in Mockingjay, which will obviously be much different now that Katniss is pregnant. **

**I haven't quite yet decided what to do with Peeta and his hijacking, but I have some ideas. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. **

**Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed my story. I greatly appreciate every single email I get informing me. And to those of you who still put up with me after I quit half-way through stories and take way to long update, I can't even explain how amazing you are. Please forgive me, I promise I annoy myself with my lack of updates. **

**Without further ado, please enjoy chapter six of Dying Flame. Sorry it's short, I am easing myself back into writing. **

* * *

One.

Two.

Three.

Deep breaths. One, two, three.

Calm down Katniss.

Breathe.

My heart stops pounding so hard in my chest. One, two, three.

"Katniss?" There's a knock on the bathroom door. Prim doesn't wait for me to let her in. She sighs when she sees me sitting on the floor, my thighs pushed against my protruding belly. "How are you feeling?"

Honestly, I feel awful. But I can't tell her that. "I'm fine. Just a little morning sickness." I lie.

"Do you want to talk about it Katniss? It might help." She asks, sitting next to me.

"No. It doesn't help." I lean my head on my knee, rest my palm on my bump. It's habitual now, protecting my baby.

Peeta's baby.

I want him here with me so badly right now, to fight away the nightmares and hold me and comfort me. It's selfish of me, but I miss him so much.

"Have you thought of names?" Prim asks. Since we arrived in District 13, she's been very obsessed with this baby.

"No. It's kind of hard to name something you've never seen before."

"You could see it. They have machines here that can show you pictures of the baby and tell you what gender it is."

"No. No machines are going to touch him."

"Him?"

"I think it's a boy."

"I'm kind of hoping for a little niece. I could teach her everything I know, and dress her up and do her hair. She could be the little sister I never had." Prim giggles and pokes my stomach.

"Hey Katniss?" She asks, sitting up a bit straighter and tugging at her skirt.

"Hm?"

"Do you think you could give me some advice?"

"Like what?"

She blushes. "Boy advice."

"Oh." My eyes well up a little. Stupid hormones.

"Katniss, it's okay. I could go ask someone else."

"No-no Prim it's fine. What do you want to know?"

She looks away briefly, then back at me. "There's this boy. He's super sweet and funny. I think he really likes me, but I don't know if I should talk to him. I feel like I will say something stupid and he'll hate me forever."

"Who's this boy?" I ask, genuinely curious who has one my sister's heart.

She looks down, tugging at her skirt again. "Rory Hawthorne."

I raise my eyebrow. I wonder if Gale knows about this, but I doubt he'd tell me considering he hasn't talked to me since I came to 13 and he found out I was pregnant. I push him out of my head. "Just talk to him. If he really does like you, he'll listen."

I'm not really sure why she came to me for advice, it's not as if I chase after boys. There are only two men in this world that love me, or used to. I can't say what Gale feels for me now. Hatred? Likely.

I don't want to think of Peeta. I don't want to imagine him being beaten and tortured in some small, damp cell in the Capitol. Or whatever else they're doing to him.

I look down at my bump, which isn't really a bump anymore. I'm about four months along now. Almost half-way finished, assuming I live that long.

It's time for dinner, but since I don't feel like eating Prim goes alone. I decide to go talk to Finnick instead, since I doubt he's eating. It's kind of hard to eat when someone you care about is dying.

Finnick is laying on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling. "You left your door unlocked, Princess." I tell him, walking over to him. He doesn't look at me.

"I feel trapped when it's locked." He says. "What brings you here?"

"Certainly not your good looks."

"Even this drab district couldn't make me any less beautiful."

Silence.

"Actually, I came to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"When did you realize you loved Annie?"

"Well, you don't beat around the bush. I don't know, I don't think I just realized it. She kind of crept up on me."

"Oh."

"You been missing baker boy lately?"

"Yes." I answer.

"I'm not surprised. Him being your husband and all."

"You know that wasn't real."

"Obviously, brainless."

"You sound like Johanna." I say, forgetting just for a moment that she is trapped in the Capitol, probably getting beaten and tortured as we speak.

"Yeah. I know." Finnick says quietly. He sits up, pats a spot on his bed next to him. I sit down, crossing my legs and folding my hands across my stomach.

"Honestly, I just came here to talk to somebody. I have a lot swirling around in my head and I need help sorting it out. I figured a seasoned expert such as yourself could handle that task." I say.

"Life's been pretty miserable lately, hasn't it?"

"Yes." Pause. "Finnick, is it selfish that I miss him?"

"No. I miss Annie."

"But you love her. And she loves you."

"You love Peeta too. Even if it's not on the same level he loves you. Everybody can see that."

"I just want him back so badly. I want him to be okay and safe."

Finnick sighs. "We all do, Mockingjay. Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really."

"Well I am. How about we go to dinner, you try to eat, and I will devour your leftovers?"

"Still not used to the portion sizes here?"

"Years in the Capitol will do that to you. Now come along, you have a baby to feed as well."

He helps me up and we walk together to dinner. Most of the people have already eaten and left, only a few sit at the tables and eat. Finnick and I grab our trays and find an empty table in the corner.

Finnick digs his spoon into a bowl of mush, brings it up a few inches, and drops it back into the bowl. His face twists in such a way it makes me laugh at his discomfort.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have prepared a lovely meal of slop and goo!" Finnick says very loud in his very best Capitol accent. The stares we get in return make me only laugh harder.

I manage to eat at least half of my dinner before I feel sick. Finnick finishes it off, even licking the bowl clean. "Tastes better than it looks." He says, picking up our trays and putting them back.

We laugh and joke the whole way back to my room, probably waking up a few people. I don't care, this is the happiest I've been in months. It's nice having a real friend.

"Well, I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Everdeen."

"Bye, Finnick." I push the door open, tiptoe my bed. Prim is sleeping with my mother again, so I sprawl out on the mattress and try to sleep as best as I can.

* * *

Early the next morning, I am called to Command. It's urgent, I am told. I take a seat next to Boggs and Finnick and wait for Coin to arrive.

She walks in, her shoes clicking. Her face is emotionless except for the slightly annoyed look she seems to always have.

"I see Mr. Abernathy is absent as usual. We'll have to continue without him." She arranged some papers on the podium and they are projected onto a screen behind her.

"As we all know, Ms. Everdeen promised to be the Mockingjay as long as we promised to return all of the victors held captive by the Captiol. We shall execute this mission tomorrow. A team of equipped soldiers will be transported by hovercraft to the Capitol. This map shows the building they are being held hostage in, and what we believe to be the cells Ms. Cresta, Ms. Mason, and Mr. Mellark are being held at." The screen shows a picture of a group of rooms, with thick metal doors and steel inbetween several layers of brick. No escape would be possible.

I try to grasp what she is saying. Peeta is going to be rescued tomorrow? Tomorrow, I can see him, touch him, kiss him. This thought makes me so giddy with excitement I have to press my hand to my mouth to cover my grin.

_Peeta. _I think giddily. _I can see Peeta. _

Suddenly, that excitement is sucked from my body and tossed aside. A new, chilling fear seeps through my veins and every skin cell. What if he doesn't remember me? What if he hates me? Does he hold me accountable for blowing up the forcefield, leaving him to essentially die? I couldn't live anymore if Peeta wanted me dead. I would want to be dead myself.

I don't realize I'm shaking until Finnick has to pull my hand from my face. What I was orginally using to hide my grin is now being used to muffle my oncoming scream.

_Peeta, what have I done to you?_

Coin clears her throat, directing everyone's attention back to herself. But I can't focus, all I can think of is Peeta and what his current state of mind is.

"Who will be on this squad?" Boggs asks.

"As I stated earlier, a team of fully equipped and highly trained soldiers."

"Will their breakout be televised? Will the Star Squad need to be there for appearances?"

"I don't believe that will be necessary."

Suddenly Finnick stands up. "I have to go. I need to be there." I too am suddenly overcome with a desire, no - need, to rescue them myself. I feel like it's my job and if I don't do it I may explode.

"Mr. Odair, Ms. Cresta will be in safe hands. If we take you and Ms. Everdeen our mission will not be possible. Nearly a quarter of the country wants you both dead and dragging you on this mission will accomplish just that."  
I wonder if Coin is among that group of people who wants me dead. I don't feel surprised.

Finnick starts cursing at her, calling her horrible names that I am sure he can be brutally punished for. Coin says nothing as Boggs and a few others try to restrain him, only pursing her lips tightly and locking eyes with me. This is your fault, they seem to say to me.

Maybe it is.

Eventually, both Finnick and I are escorted out of Command and taken to the hospital to be sedated. I am unsure why I am being brought into this, but I don't object. I may just end up like Finnick if I am not sedated, although I doubt I will be able to restrain myself and just yell at her.

I dream of Peeta and Prim dancing around in the meadow by my house.

* * *

**I can't promise I am going to update soon, but I do swear that I'll try. The next chapter will be longer. Am I rushing things too much if I put their reunion in the next chapter? I can't decide. **

**Happy reading everyone :)**


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